Knock knock.

Same woman as last time. She lets Belmarniss in.

When Belmarniss is alone with Abada in the visitors' booth she produces the pastries. "Smuggled you a snack."

"Awww, sweet of you."

"Don't overinterpret it, my inn doesn't charge per pastry, but I assume they have you on couscous and water here."

"Meat on holy days. After all the prayers, of course."

"Is that so you're appropriately grateful for all the religious meddling or something?"

"I'm not sure whether they think they're bribing us or earning some charity points off us or what. Or someone compared two monasteries and the one with meat did better, could be that."

"They do such responsible social science. I've got a list for you -" She passes it over.

"Just wanna know if they're alive or dead?"

"And who their friends are. Or their rivals or whoever."

"That's a lot for a couple of pastries. How's my rainstorm?"

"It was called away on urgent business."

"Awww, I'm not urgent business?"

"You're important business but you're not exactly on fire."

"I don't owe any of these people a thing but I don't like working for free."

"Don't like danishes?"

"They're all right." She has already finished them.

"What do you want a storm so bad for?"

"It'd be interesting. Not much is interesting, around here."

"Would they even let you outside to frolic in the rain?"

"Half the chapels don't have roofs."

"Huh, I wonder why. He's not a sun god."

"Ah, see, it's character-building."

"Sunburn is? - do humans sunburn?"